Passages
by Jerusha ferch Rhys
Summary: The passage through childhood of Deryni triplets is not that different from human children in Gwynedd, but it takes an occasional interesting turn.
1. Chapter 1

Passages, Part 1

Farewell

_Tehryn Keep_

_Barony of Tehryn_

_Early March 1129_

"He can't be gone!" Jäna de Tehryn's voice broke in a sob as she stretched her small hand forward to stroke the grizzled, gray head.

"He was very old, Jäna," her eldest brother stated. He was the pragmatic one of triplets. "You know he couldn't live forever."

Justin, a bit more sensitive than his identical twin, gave his brother a stern look and reached around to hug his sister's slender shoulders. "It's all right to cry, you know."

"Tehryn doesn't cry!" But the look she gave him was despairing and her lower lip was starting to tremble.

"Who says Tehryn doesn't cry?" Baron Jerrill de Tehryn rocked back on his haunches from where he had been kneeling beside the now dead pony.

"You did." Jäna's thick auburn lashes were wet with unshed tears as she turned her face toward her father.

"Now why would I say a silly thing like that?" Baron Jerrill raised himself enough to move closer to his daughter and sat in the straw beside her. Justin released his grip on his sister as de Tehryn pulled the five-year old girl onto his lap. She burrowed her head against his neck and beard.

Jared gave his father a questioning look. "But you always say…"

"Not now, Jared." The old Baron gave his eldest son a firm look and the boy looked at his twin for support. Justin shook his head.

"Saffron was Jayce's pony," Jäna sobbed, her voice muffled from within her father's arms. "He was all we had left of Jayce, and now he's gone, too."

"I know, Kitten, but Saffron was very old. You took very good care of him these last months." Baron Jerrill rocked her gently and sighed.

They had never known their eldest brother. Sir Jayce Justin de Tehryn had been but twenty when he died, fighting alongside Prince Nigel Haldane on the fields of Jennan Vale to restore order to a kingdom beset by enemies within as well as without. He still had the letter from Prince Nigel extolling how bravely his son had fought and how much the Prince regretted the loss of a young man with so much potential and promise. Many times Jerrill had wondered if it would have been different if he had been able to ride out with his son in service to the Duke, but the aggravation of an old injury to his hip prevented him from riding the distance. His only child and heir had been eager and willing to go in his stead, the sable Tehryn banner with its golden wyvern carried proudly by his son's first squire. Neither one had returned alive.

The passage of time had made legends of the stories he told the triplets of their brother. The tales he told of Jayce's adventures as a Carthmoor page and later as a squire. The description of Jayce's knighting by King Brion and how proud his family had been. The stories of how the young boy had learned to ride his pony, Saffron. The pony that now lay dead on the stable floor.

Saffron had been the link to the legend. The children had their own ponies to ride, but Jäna was determined to provide the aged pony with the best of care and loved him dearly. They all loved him, of course; the boys just hadn't been quite so flamboyant about it. Jäna never allowed Saffron to eat a bruised apple, and she was happy to redirect all carrots from the kitchens to the pony's stall. The fact that Jäna hated carrots was carefully and frequently pointed out by Jared. To Jäna's dismay, most of the carrots continued to be served at table.

At the end of January, the winter cold had begun to take its toll on the aged pony. Saffron grew frailer with each passing day. In spite of selecting the best of the apples from the storeroom, Jäna could no longer tempt the pony to eat. Jerrill had decided to end Saffron's suffering that morning, but the pony had died peacefully during the night, sparing the Baron his task.

Jäna's crying subsided. Baron Jerrill stood and took her gently by the hand and began to draw her away from the pony's head.

"Jared, have the stablemen come now and look after Saffron," he said.

"Yes, sir," Jared responded with a noticeable sniff and turned toward the stable yard where two men waited respectfully at a distance.

Jäna pulled her hand from her father's and looked up beseechingly. "Up, Papa, please?"

The old baron looked down into his daughter's green eyes and said gently, "You're getting too big to be carried now, don't you think?"

"Not yet, Papa," five-year old Jäna replied without hesitation.

Baron Jerrill smiled gently and scooped his small daughter up into his arms. "Perhaps not quite yet, Kitten."

She leaned her auburn head against his iron-grey one as he carried her back toward the main hall, her twin brothers joining them, one on either side.

Inside the hall, Jerrill paused before the family portrait he had commissioned shortly after Jayce's knighting. In the portrait he was younger, his dark brown hair and full, bristling beard threaded with grey rather than the solid grey they were now, and there were fewer lines around his blue eyes. He had always thought he looked stuffy and uncompromising standing at attention in the portrait. Anya had teased him, telling him he looked more like a warning for intruders than a welcoming host for visitors.

Not so the woman who sat in front of him on an ornately carved chair. Anya de Tehryn had not been beautiful in the strictest sense, but she had been a captivating woman. She certainly never failed to captivate him! She was gowned in her favourite green for the portrait, with a matching green veil framing her fair face and highlighting her emerald green eyes. The silver circlet securing the veil had been his wedding present to her. Not a wisp of her deep auburn hair escaped the confines of her veil. Her smile in the portrait was as warm as it had been in life, yet there had always been the faintest hint of sadness, suggesting a life that had not quite been perfect.

Wistfully he turned his gaze to Jayce, standing tall and proud at his father's side, behind his mother. Jayce's appearance favoured his father; an oval face framed by cropped, dark brown hair and a close-clipped beard, laughing blue eyes and a boyish grin. He had never been able to remain serious for very long, finding humour even in the mundane. Yet this trait had not deterred him in his determination to win the accolade of knighthood, and he had earned the respect of both peers and superiors. He had certainly made his parents proud.

"Do you still miss them, Papa?" Justin asked quietly.

"Yes I do, son, and I always will. But now I have the three of you to keep me busy and out of trouble." He bounced Jäna slightly in his arms for emphasis.

"Papa, did you ever get into trouble?" Jared asked, turning his head to look up at his father.

"Of course not," Jerrill responded gruffly. Jäna looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and delighted affection, so much like her mother would have looked at him if he had said the same to her that it caught at his heart.

"Down, Papa, please! I am too big to be carried into the hall."

"Why, so you are," Jerrill said with a smile and set her down, taking her hand in his. "It should be just about time for the noon meal, I think."

As they started in to the hall, Jerrill turned to look back briefly at the portrait. The sunlight drifting through a window caught his wife's face, and for a moment, he thought it reflected approval in her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Doll

Passages, Part 2

The Doll

_Tehryn Keep_

_Barony of Tehryn_

_Late March 1129_

The old woman looked out through the open window casement. Baron Jerrill and his two sons rode out of the courtyard towards a side gate and the road that would steer them away from the town below, taking them instead to the high meadows and orchards. Although the morning was sunny and bright, spring was late in coming this year and the wind still had a bite to it. The spring rains had held off and the ground was firm enough to allow for a drier ride than what was normal for this time of year. Jerrill wanted to check the condition of his apple trees after the long winter and had invited his children to accompany him.

Lady Amah turned from the window and smiled to herself. She knew perfectly well it was an excuse to flee the reports he needed to prepare for Duke Nigel for Easter court in Rhemuth. Over sixty years old and the Baron still used any excuse to exercise outside and avoid his desk!

Lady Amah Furstán d'Arjenol was almost ten years younger than the Baron. She wore an air of serene dignity as casually as another might wear a cloak. The once dark hair coiled beneath her black veil had silvered and there were lines about her hazel eyes. Age had made her fingers less nimble and fine embroidery harder to see so she spent more time at her loom. She still wore the dark mourning she had adopted upon the death of her closest friend and companion five years ago. She had also kept the promise she made to the dying woman to raise her children as if they were her own, which explained why she was now looking forward to a quiet, peaceful morning.

Amah returned to her loom and looked fondly at the auburn haired girl who sat at the table in the centre of the solar, drawing on a wax tablet with her lead stylus. Jäna had almost completely recovered from the cold she had endured for the past fortnight, but Amah had worried that it was not yet warm enough outside for the girl to accompany her father and brothers and had kept her inside. The fresh wax tablet had eased Jäna's disappointment. She enjoyed drawing and showed signs of having a genuine talent for it.

Jäna paused in her drawing, lifting one of her braids and aligning the loose end across her upper lip, the ribbon just touching her nose.

"Amah," she said, turning to face the loom. "Should I grow a beard and moustaches like Papa?"

"No, Jäna," Amah said with a smile. "I don't think you can do that."

"Jared and Justin said they are going to."

"Girls don't grow beards and moustaches, dear, and the boys will have to wait a little while for that."

"Oh. Jared said his lip already had fuzz, but he had just finished grooming Storm and it was only horsehair." Jäna returned to her drawing.

The old woman laughed and sent her shuttle across the loom.

"Amah…."

"Yes Jäna?" Amah paused in her weaving.

"Will Storm have her foal soon?"

"Master Ellis thinks it will be several more weeks."

"That long?" Jäna frowned and looked disappointed.

Amah smiled. "It's not that long," she said and returned to her weaving. The shuttle flew across the loom twice.

"Amah….."

Amah sighed, realizing the Jäna was indeed feeling better, and that she was not going to get much weaving done. "Yes, little one?"

"Why did you and Mama leave Torenth?"

Startled, Amah forgot about the shuttle. Where had that question come from? And how was she going to answer it in a manner suitable for a five-year old girl? How could she possibly explain the assault of Jäna's mother by a pair of brigands? Brigands hired by Amah's own father to deter her friend's brother from the pursuit of Amah's hand in marriage? A marriage Amah herself had dearly wanted?

No, she could not possibly answer that question yet, at least not directly. That answer would have to wait for a few more years.

Thoughtfully, Amah rose from her stool at the loom and walked over to the table. "Come with me," she said. "I have something to show you."

Jäna hopped down from her chair and placed her hand in the one Amah offered. They walked companionably from the solar to Amah's chambers. Once there, Amah walked over to a wooden chest, opened it and, after sifting carefully through its contents, removed something wrapped in soft blue wool. She laid it carefully on the bed and Jäna moved closer to look at the bundle. Amah lifted her up on the high bed to sit and then started to carefully unwrap the bundle.

"This was your mother's," Amah said as she removed the last of the fabric to reveal a large doll.

The doll had a porcelain head with long dark hair braided at either side of her face. The face had been painted by a skilled craftsman; she had brown eyes with individually painted lashes, rosy cheeks and a mouth curved in a pretty red smile. She was dressed in a sapphire blue gown with a laced bodice over a pale blue chemise.

Jäna's eyes were wide with wonder. "Amah, look! She even has little blue slippers! Did Mama bring her from Torenth?"

"Yes, she did. She has a soft body, so she can also sit up." Amah folded the doll into a sitting position.

"Can I hold her?"

"Of course you can, Jäna. Please be careful, though, and don't let her fall off the bed."

"Oh, I will Amah! I'll be very careful." Jäna carefully pulled the doll onto her own lap, examining the face and hair with her hand. "Who gave Mama the doll, Amah?"

"Your mother's brother gave it to her. He found the doll in the Grand Market and thought she would like it."

"Mama had a brother? Do I have an uncle?" The thought of an unknown uncle intrigued Jäna and she looked toward the older woman expectantly.

"You did have an uncle, Jäna. His name was Tamil. Tamil Sostra-Kedras."

"Did you know him?"

"Yes, I knew him very well. He was a very special man." There was a touch of wistfulness in Amah's voice. "He was a Healer training at the court of the Duke of Arjenol."

"What's a Healer?"

"A Healer is a special kind of physician. There aren't very many of them. In fact, I don't know of any in Gwynedd at all." Amah sat down on the bed next to Jäna and lifted her arm in an invitation to sit closer.

Jäna scooted closer and tucked herself under the proffered arm. She knew this meant a story. She also knew it was best not to interrupt with questions until the end.

Amah gave the girl a gentle hug and began her story, changing to her native Torenthi to tell it. Jäna and her brothers had learned the language along with Gwyneddan since birth and the girl followed the story easily.

"Your Uncle Tamil and his sister Anya came to the court of Duke Mahael I from their home in Sostra. Tamil was to study with the aging Healer at court at that time with the intent that he would assume his healer's duties in the future. Your mother, the Lady Anya, was to become a lady-in-waiting to the duchess. I was also one of the young ladies-in-waiting and did my best to make your mother feel welcome. We became very close friends, and when our various duties permitted it, Tamil, Anya and I often spent our free time together."

"Although Anya was happy at court, she was still young and missed her home at times. As her birthday approached, Tamil wanted to find her a special gift to cheer her up. He thought she would like a doll and went down to the Grand Market and found the doll you are holding on your lap. He bought it but never thought to have it wrapped. When he returned and was entering the great hall, your mother and I were leaving the hall with Her Grace. There directly in front of us was Tamil holding a beautiful doll in plain sight in front of Anya! Duchess Daniela knew about the gift because she had recommended the merchant at the market to Tamil. She quickly intercepted Tamil and thanked him for bringing the doll as if she had requested it. She then took the doll from Tamil and handed it to one of the pages to take it to her chambers. Your Uncle Tamil told Her Grace it had been his pleasure to be of service and left as quickly as he could. Poor Anya was so disappointed because she thought Tamil had bought the doll for her."

"It fell to me to smuggle the doll out of Her Grace's chambers and get it back to Tamil without Anya seeing it again. Since Anya and I were almost always together, this was not an easy task. Later that afternoon, while Anya was helping the duchess during a fitting for a new gown, I hid the doll in a basket of fabric that the sempstress had set aside in Her Grace's chambers. When the sempstress left, she took the doll with her in the basket. I hurried after her and retrieved the doll, carefully wrapping it in some of the blue wool from the basket so it wouldn't be seen this time. I found a page to take it to Tamil and then returned to the duchess's chambers."

"On her birthday, Tamil gave Anya the blue bundle of wool. I still remember the look on her face when she opened the bundle and saw the doll. She was so happy! She kept it on a shelf by her bed where she would see it first thing in the morning and the last thing at night."

Jäna's eyes were sparkling with delight at the end of the story. "And Mama brought her here to Tehryn, too!"

"Yes, she did," Amah agreed in Gwyneddan, confirming that the story had ended. She looked thoughtfully at the little girl beside her. "I think it's time the doll found a new shelf to sit on. Would you like to put her in your room?"

"Oh yes, Amah! Yes, please! I'll be very careful with her, I promise. I can put her right beside my wooden cat. I'm sure there's enough room."

Amah smiled and stood, ready to help the small girl holding the doll down from the bed. "Let's go see, shall we?"

Contentedly, they walked to Jäna's room, Jäna happily chattering about the doll and Amah Furstán d'Arjenol grateful that there were no more questions about why she and Anya had left Torenth.


	3. Chapter 3 - Discovery

Passages, Part 3

Discovery

_Barony of Tehryn_

_Late April, 1129_

Jared de Tehryn was planning his own little coup. He knew exactly where he would leave the road and the route he would take across the field on his pony. He would reach the willow tree first this time. Now that he had his plan, he was careful not think about it.

Whenever they returned from a trip into town, if he, Justin and Jäna had behaved reasonably well, they were allowed to race their ponies across the field on the way home. The field stretched flat beside the road for a good distance and whoever reached the willow tree first won the race. The stream beyond the willow tree was shallow, so Papa didn't worry if they ended up beyond the tree and in the water. Well, except for the one time Jäna had slipped and went in head first. He grinned as he remembered how she had looked soaking wet with her hair plastered over her face and water streaming down everywhere. Papa had waded in and picked her up, holding her at arm's length as he carried her out while she dripped like a fresh caught fish.

"I know what you're thinking!" Jäna hissed as her pony caught up with his.

"You always know what I'm thinking. But not this time!" Jared's grin widened. "I'm going to win this time, because I'm not going to think at all!"

"I'm not thinking either, then," Jäna retorted.

It was a beautiful spring day. Baron Jerrill de Tehryn rode a little ahead on his bay palfrey, his black leather riding cap pushed back from his brow due to the afternoon warmth. Lady Amah rode several lengths back behind the children, her dark veil fluttering in the breeze. Behind her rode one of the baron's men with a pack mule trailing behind him on a lead line.

Baron Jerrill turned to look behind him at the three children, each one on their own pony; one a dappled brown, one grey, and one black. He had resisted the temptation to buy identical ponies for the triplets; that would only have led to mischief, he had been sure. He could tell his twin boys apart, although few others could. His daughter was obviously distinguishable, and he noted with pride that she rode every bit as well has her brothers. He hadn't been quite as proud the day he found her in the practice yard with her own little wooden training sword, sparring with her brothers. Someone had sized it perfectly for her shorter arm. He hadn't bothered to discover exactly who it had been, but he was sure she had charmed one of his men into doing it for her. After Jerrill had shooed Jäna out of the yard, Amah and Jäna had a little talk about proper feminine pursuits. Jerrill suspected there would have to be more "little talks".

"Do I need to come back there and ride between you two?"

"No, Papa!" Jäna and Jared said in unison. They would be perfect angels rather than jeopardize the race. At least perfect enough.

"I'll watch them, Papa," Justin said.

"No, you won't!" Jäna's green eyes flashed a warning at her brother.

"Who's going to watch you?" Jared countered.

"I am watching all three of you," Lady Amah said mildly. "I'm sure Lord Jerrill won't mind if we continue on down the road today rather than stopping."

Three pairs of green eyes looked pleadingly at their father. Three ponies moved nicely abreast across the road, their riders' little boots not quite touching. Jäna was in the middle, with a brother on either side, all resolutely unified in their hope to still have their race today.

"We'll see," Jerrill said, turning forward again before they could see him smile.

They travelled peacefully enough until Jared spotted the slight turn in the road that indicated the start of the field. He quietly moved his pony to the other side of the road, beside his brother.

"What are you doing?" Jäna asked suspiciously.

"Nothing." Jared stared resolutely ahead, careful not to look directly at his sister.

Baron Jerrill halted his horse by the side of the road and looked back toward Lady Amah.

"What do you think, Amah? Have they behaved well enough this trip for a race?"

"I believe so," she replied. "But I want you all to be careful. No foolishness!" She favoured each child with a stern look, though her eyes still smiled.

"Amah, we're not _babies_ anymore!" Justin looked at his father for masculine support.

"Of course you're not! But you pay attention to what Amah told you anyway." Jerrill moved his horse a little further to the left to make more room at the side of the road. "Go ahead and line up and don't crowd the ponies."

Immediately the children moved their ponies into position at the side of the road, lining up to make their dash for the willow tree. Jäna cast a sidelong look at Jared, still on the other side of Justin, suspicion growing that there was a reason she was no longer in the middle. There was no time to worry about it now, because her father had raised his arm to give the signal to start.

The baron's arm dropped and all three ponies charged forward, riders digging heels into their mounts and urging them ahead. Jared's pony, directly in line with the willow tree and the shortest, smoother route, began to pull ahead. Jäna's pony, with its lighter rider, began to move up, but Jared willed his pony to go faster and reached the willow first by a length.

Jared whooped in victory and made for the stream, turning backwards to gloat just a little bit. No one could say afterwards whether it was because he was not paying attention to his mount at that moment or an unfortunate happenstance, but the pony stumbled and Jared was pitched forward, landing heavily on the ground.

"Papa!" Justin and Jäna screamed in unison, Jäna all but throwing herself off her pony to reach her fallen brother. Baron Jerrill was already halfway across the field, with Lady Amah right behind him.

Jared lay still, his right shoulder beneath him, breathing raggedly with pain. Jäna fell to her knees beside him, unsure whether she should touch him or not for fear she might hurt him more. She finally reached out her hand and touched him gently on his back; Jared moaned and she snatched her hand back immediately.

"Easy now, let's have a look." Baron de Tehryn had spent enough years on campaign to be experienced in handling injuries. He too knelt down beside his son; Lady Amah sat down beside Jared's head, laying one hand gently across his forehead, her thumb and ring finger touching his closed eyelids. Jared relaxed and his father began a cursory examination, carefully rolling the boy onto his back.

Jäna gasped. A piece of a branch from the willow tree as thick as her father's thumb protruded from Jared's right shoulder, blood beginning to seep from where it entered the flesh.

"Henry," Jerrill called to his man who now stood holding the horses. "Fetch my kit from my saddlebag." He always packed at least the rudiments of a medical kit when he travelled even short distances. He pulled out the dagger from the sheath on his belt and cut away Jared's shirt from the stick, then probed the wound gently, noting that the stick was relatively green with the bark intact. He looked across his son at Amah. "The stick is going to have to come out now so it won't do more damage on the way home."

Amah nodded. "I'll keep him asleep."

Jerrill accepted the kit from Henry and opened it to withdraw a clean cloth and a medium sized, stoppered bottle. "Justin, Jäna, stand back with Henry while I do this."

"No, Papa, please!" Jäna green eyes were huge with worry. "I can hold his hand!"

_"Let her stay,"_ Amah sent. _"She'll be all right."_

Jerrill nodded as he folded a length of the cloth into a compress and then set it on Jared's chest. He grasped the stick firmly with his right hand while he spread his left hand on Jared's chest at the base of the stick. He took a deep breath, and then gently began easing the stick from his son's shoulder. As it came free, more blood began to escape from the hole in the flesh.

"Oh, no!" Jäna cried, and pressed both her small hands against Jared's shoulder to stop the blood.

"No, Jäna!" Jerrill moved to pull her hands away so he could cover the wound with the compress.

"_Wait_," Amah sent urgently.

Lady Amah had felt this odd sensation before. Jäna's Uncle Tamil, a healer, had let Amah assist him once in a healing long ago. She had been awed at the power of the rare gift and the strange sensation, almost as if another set of hands added strength and a sense of balance to heal the injury. She had thought never to feel it again, but she did now.

Jäna knelt transfixed at her brother's side, willing the bleeding to stop. Her father, suddenly realizing what must be happening, placed his larger hand on her smaller ones, lending her his own strength to draw upon.

But Jäna was only five, and the surge of power she had drawn upon in a panic to stop the flow of blood was flagging quickly. She blinked and faltered, starting to pull back from the wound.

"It's all right," her father said gently. "Let me get this cloth on now." He moved her hands aside and covered the wound with the cloth. Surprisingly, there was very little blood.

Jäna had done enough. Jerrill lifted the cloth to discover that the deeper portion of the hole had closed. He opened the bottle and rinsed what was left of the wound with vinegar, then covered the injury with a clean cloth and bandaged it. Jäna watched in a daze, not quite understanding what she had done and a little worried she might have gotten herself into trouble. She looked up at Amah and saw the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Amah, did I do wrong?" she asked uncertainly.

"Oh no, darling, you did just right. Uncle Tamil would be so proud of you, and so am I." Amah smiled, and Jäna suddenly yawned.

"Oh, beg pardon!"

"Come sit by me while your father finishes up." Amah patted the ground beside her with her free hand. At a nod from Jerrill, she removed her other hand from Jared's forehead. Jäna yawned again and stretched her legs carefully beside Jared.

"Papa," Justin said, from where he stood standing beside Henry. "Do you think Jared will have a scar?"

"I expect he might. He'll likely be proud of it after it heals and stops hurting. Don't you go trying to get one like it!"

Jerrill stood and reached over to grip Justin's shoulder. "Don't worry, Jared will be fine. Now you understand why it's important to pay attention to your pony and your surroundings when riding."

"Yes, sir," Justin responded gravely. "How will we get Jared home?"

"We're close enough to home that he can ride with me. Do you think you can lead his pony back as you ride?"

"Yes sir!" Justin straightened his shoulders, pleased to be given the extra responsibility.

At the baron's nod, they prepared to leave. Father and daughter washed their hands in the stream, while Henry attached a lead rope to Jared's pony. Jäna stumbled slightly as she walked to the horses with her father.

"Why don't you ride up with Amah?" Jerrill suggested. "You can have a little sleep on the way back."

"I'm not that tired, Papa," Jäna replied, but the suggestion was very tempting as she yawned again. "I could keep Amah company that way, though."

"Yes, I believe you could." Jerrill helped Amah mount her palfrey, and then lifted Jäna up onto her lap. Once he was mounted on his own horse, Henry lifted Jared carefully up. Jerrill settled the boy against his chest and tucked him inside his arm.

By the time they had returned to the road, Jäna was asleep. Justin led his brother's pony and Henry managed the pack horse and Jäna's pony. The baron followed as smooth a path as possible for Jared's comfort, and Amah rode beside him, careful of her own extra passenger.

It wasn't long before the familiar outline of Tehryn Keep appeared before them. By the time they crossed into the yard inside the walls, the wind had picked up and there was a hint of rain in the air. Both Jared and Jäna awoke as the horses stopped and they were gently lifted down. Jared's shoulder had started to ache, but Lady Amah fussed sufficiently over him as he was carried inside that he withstood the discomfort with hardly a sniffle. Justin supervised the care of their ponies and Jäna hovered over the preparations in the boys' room to make Jared comfortable.

It was well after dark by the time the triplets were fed and tucked into their beds, sleeping soundly after warm possets of milk and honey as an extra treat. Baron Jerrill and Lady Amah gratefully retired to chairs before the fire in the baron's study.

They had much to talk about.


End file.
